Jose Hernandez, the retired astronaut, conceived the awesome project. Hernandez recruited a dozen or so students from Pacific’s Society of Women Engineers.

“I thought one of the big components of my company should be outreach, trying to inspire the kids,” said Hernandez, who now runs Tierra Luna Engineering, an aerospace consultancy.

The female engineering students are mostly civil and mechanical — Pacific does not offer aerospace engineering — but they boldly ventured where no Pacific engineer had gone before: to build cameras to transmit photos from a CubeSat, or miniature satellite.

Their subsystem was to be integrated with others and launched by balloon from the Nevada desert to 100,000 feet altitude and space’s frigid vacuum. It would come down, well, somewhere.

“CubeSat are so new,” said student Delia Davila, 20, of Stockton. “For us to actually be a part of the front run of making small satellites … it’s definitely an exploding field.”

Hernandez also brought in students from a university in Puebla, Mexico. Those students built one subsystem to transmit readings. Tierra Luna added a third readings subsystem.

All had to be small and durable. A rising balloon crosses wind streams and temperature bands. When it edges into space, the temperature falls to 90 below.

Collaborating by video with the Mexicans — because the various subsystems had to communicate — the students worked all year.

They programmed two small Omnivision cellphone cameras to take pictures every 20 seconds, then to sleep at 8-second intervals to conserve battery power.

To protect against the elements, they nestled the unit in a foam-insulated plastic cube made by 3-D printer. Only the lenses peeped out.

They planned to enter the Society of Women Engineers national competition in Nashville in mid-October. But Nevada rains repeatedly delayed launch.

“It’s a drought year, in a desert, and three times we got rained out,” Hernandez said ruefully.

Last Sunday was finally a go.

At the launch spot outside Lovelock, Nevada, their other partner, JP Aerospace of Rancho Cordova, inflated a latex weather balloon with helium.

Rising 1,000 feet a minute, the satellite transmitted readings and photographs. The vehicle also radioed its altitude and GPS coordinates. The students watched it rise to 50,000 feet or so.

Then it was out of sight.

But the intrepid satellite continued operating as it pierced space. There, as planned, the decreased air pressure allowed the helium to expand until it burst the balloon.

Tiger and all, the satellite plunged 19 miles. When it fell into thicker air, the upward winds pushed out the parachute.

Down the satellite drifted, blown by easterly winds.

Crossing a mountain range, it landed 30 miles to the east, in the foothills of the Antelope Valley. Following its signal, a retrieval team from JP Aerospace raced after it.

“You kind of play Marco Polo,” said John Marchel Powell, president of JP Aerospace.

Taking a four-wheeler shortcut, the team jounced over Cain Mountain to find the satellite resting 100 feet off a road. It had come down smoothly and intact.

The students were jazzed. “I screamed for a moment,” said Ji Yeon Lee. “It was like, 'Yes!!' ”

It was too late to take the photos to Nashville. But the project won second prize anyway.

Ultimately the students hope to launch a satellite from the International Space Station into orbit. Pacific may be looking at graduating a few less mechanical engineers and a few more aerospace engineers.

“I do have an interest in aerospace,” Xueying Wang, 24. “I may work on more projects about satellites in the future.”

— Contact columnist Michael Fitzgerald at (209) 546-8270 or michaelf@recordnet.com. Follow him at recordnet.com/fitzgeraldblog and on Twitter @Stocktonopolis.

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